E n noses living flame summary. Nosov E

The protagonist of Yevgeny Nosov's story "Living Flame", the writer himself, lived in a rented room in an old quiet house, where clean floors smelled cool, a jasmine bush outside the window cast shadows on the desk and braided it with lace. Aunt Olya rented a room, she lived alone. The room rented by the writer used to belong to Alyosha, her son, but he died in the war. He dived in his small plane onto the back of a heavy bomber belonging to the Germans. Alyosha's portrait still hung on the wall above the desk.

One day Aunt Olya called

Writer to help prepare her flower bed, and at the same time to ventilate and stretch her back. He raked the moisture-smelling earth with a rake, and a woman on a mound sorted flower seeds into varieties. The author was interested in why she does not plant poppies in the flower beds. But for Aunt Olya, poppies were a vegetable that was sown next to cucumbers and onions. You can't even call them flowers. They bloom for only two days, and then fall off. They lit up and immediately went out. And then the stems with boxes stand all summer long in the flowerbed and spoil the view, destroy the beauty of other flowers. Poppies were for Aunt Olya, thus, a symbol of meaninglessness and transience.

And yet the writer threw

A few seeds in the middle of the flower bed. A few days later, shoots appeared, among which were poppies. Aunt Olya noticed this, laughed at the mischief, weeded out some of the sprouts, and left a few stalks in the very middle.

Soon the author had to leave for two weeks. After a hard, stuffy road, it was nice to return home and drink cool kvass from a heavy copper mug, which, by the way, Aunt Olin's son loved so much. Then she took the writer to look at the flower bed, which they had planted together. Its edges were now bordered by a green carpet adorned with various colors. Yellow-blue pansies winked, night violets enchanted with their incredible, mysterious aroma. And in the very center of the flower bed, stretching their buds to the sun, ready to open their petals any moment, stood the poppies planted by the writer.

They opened up the next day. Now it was as if they were not flowers at all, but small lights with live tongues of hot flame fluttering in the wind. The sun pierced them with its light, like fiery arrows, and the petals seemed to lose their flesh, become transparent and flashed with scarlet fire, then filled with crimson color and went into shadow. Next to these lights, all other flowers faded, dimmed. For two days the fire spread over the flowerbed, burned everything around, warmed people with its warmth. And on the third it went out. Scarlet petals fell on the black earth, and the flower bed became faded and lifeless, empty. Light, brightness disappeared, leaving calm, aristocratic, full of charm pansies, matthiolas and snapdragons to live out their lives.

The writer took one petal, still soft, full of life, with a drop of dew gleaming on it, put it in his palm. Aunt Olya noted with surprise that she had not paid any attention to poppies before, did not notice how short, but bright their life is. They live in full force, without looking back - they caught fire, burned out and went out. It also happens to people - they live brightly, giving hope and love, and then they are burned, devoured by fire. And she left, hunched over, remembering her deceased Alyosha. Sorrow and sadness filled her soul, the association between the fire of poppies, which flared up so brightly and went out so quickly, and her son, who sacrificed his life and burned in the flames of war, was too strong.

The writer now lives on the other side of the city, but sometimes he visits Aunt Olya. Just recently I went to visit her again. We sat at the summer table, drank tea, shared the news. And the neighboring flower bed blazed with a poppy fire, a scarlet, luminous, bright flame. Some of the flowers were already crumbling, their petals covering the ground. Others were just opening their fiery petals. From below, new stems raised their buds.

The story draws a direct association between scarlet bright flowers and people whose life was bright, but ended so early and suddenly. So it was with all those who died in the war. So it was with Aunt Olya's son, Alyosha. Poppies in themselves carry the memory of all those people who did not return from the war. They serve as a living reminder, a monument that fills people's lives with fire and light.

Title of the work: living flame

Year of writing: 1958

Genre: story

Main characters: narrator, aunt Olya

Plot

One day the narrator was helping a woman he knew plant flowers. She gave him a bag of poppies and asked him to plant it in the center of the flower bed. A few weeks later, the author saw scarlet poppies blazing in the center of the flower bed, but their color was short-lived. After three or four days, the tender petals fell off, and only boxes with seeds remained.

Aunt Olya said that some people also have the same life as poppies - short, but bright. And the author remembered his friend, the son of Aunt Olya, a young pilot Alexei, who died very young in a battle with the Nazis, sending his burning plane to a column of enemy equipment.

Conclusion (my opinion)

For every woman, the most irreplaceable loss is the death of a child. Aunt Olya has an unhealed wound in her heart, she constantly remembers her dead son and is proud of him. Even the short-lived beauty of sparkling poppies reminds her of the short life of her son, of his heroism and her loneliness.

Aunt Olya looked into my room, again caught me behind the papers, and, raising her voice, said commandingly:
- Will write something! Go get some air, help cut the flower bed. Aunt Olya took out a birch bark box from the closet. While I gladly kneaded my back, raking the damp earth with a rake, she sat down on a mound and poured sachets and bundles of flower seeds onto her knees and sorted them into varieties.
“Olga Petrovna, what is it,” I remark, “do you not sow poppies in flowerbeds?”
- Nu, what from poppies color! she answered confidently. - It's a vegetable. It is sown in the beds along with onions and cucumbers.
- What do you! I laughed. - In some old song it is sung:
And her forehead, like marble, is white. And the cheeks are burning, as if the color of poppies.
“It only blooms for two days,” Olga Petrovna persisted. - For a flower bed, this does not fit in any way, puffed and immediately burned out. And then all summer this mallet sticks out and only spoils the view.
But all the same, I secretly poured a pinch of poppy into the very middle of the flower bed. She turned green after a few days.
- Have you planted poppies? - Aunt Olya approached me. - Oh, you are such a mischievous! So be it, leave the top three, you felt sorry. And shed the rest.
Unexpectedly, I left on business and returned only two weeks later. After a hot, tiring road, it was nice to enter Aunt Olya's quiet old house. The freshly washed floor was cool. A jasmine bush growing under the window cast a lacy shadow on the desk.
- Pour kvass? she suggested, looking sympathetically at me, sweaty and tired. - Alyoshka was very fond of kvass. It used to be that he himself bottled and sealed
When I rented this room, Olga Petrovna, raising her eyes to the portrait of a young man in a flight uniform that hangs over the desk, asked:
- Not prevent?
- What do you!
- This is my son Alex. And the room was his. Well, you settle down, live on health.
Handing me a heavy copper mug with kvass, Aunt Olya said:
- And your poppies have risen, the buds have already been thrown away. I went to look at the flowers. The flower bed was unrecognizable. Along the very edge was spread a rug, which, with its thick cover with flowers scattered over it, very much resembled a real carpet. Then the flower bed was girded with a ribbon of matthiols - modest night flowers that attract not by brightness, but by a gently bitter aroma, similar to the smell of vanilla. Curtains of yellow-violet pansies were full of flowers, purple-velvet hats of Parisian beauties swayed on thin legs. There were many other familiar and unfamiliar colors. And in the center of the flower bed, above all this flower diversity, my poppies rose, throwing three tight, heavy buds towards the sun.
They broke up the next day.
Aunt Olya went out to water the flower bed, but immediately returned, rattling an empty watering can.
- Well, go look, bloomed.
From a distance, the poppies looked like lit torches with live, merrily blazing flames in the wind. A light wind swayed a little, the sun pierced the translucent scarlet petals with light, which made the poppies either flare up with a quivering bright fire, or fill with a thick crimson. It seemed that if you just touched it, they would immediately scorch you!
Poppies blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness, and next to them all these Parisian beauties, snapdragons and other flower aristocracy faded, dimmed.
Poppies burned wildly for two days. And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out. And immediately on a lush flower bed without them it became empty.
I picked up from the ground still quite fresh, in drops of dew, a petal and straightened it in my palm.
“That's all,” I said loudly, with a feeling of admiration that had not yet cooled down.
- Yes, it burned down ... - Aunt Olya sighed, as if in a living being. - And somehow I used to pay no attention to this poppy. His life is short. But without looking back, lived to the fullest. And it happens to people...
Aunt Olya, somehow hunched over, suddenly hurried into the house.
I have already been told about her son. Aleksei died diving on his tiny "hawk" onto the back of a heavy fascist bomber...
I now live on the other side of the city and occasionally visit Aunt Olya. I recently visited her again. We sat at the summer table, drank tea, shared the news. And next to it, a large carpet of poppies was blazing in a flower bed. Some crumbled, dropping petals to the ground like sparks, others only opened their fiery tongues. And from below, from the damp, full of vitality of the earth, more and more tightly rolled buds rose up to keep the living fire from going out.

NOSOV EVGENIY IVANOVICH

LIVING FLAME

Aunt Olya looked into my room, again caught me behind the papers, and, raising her voice, said commandingly:
- Will write something! Go get some air, help cut the flower bed. Aunt Olya took out a birch bark box from the closet. While I gladly kneaded my back, raking the damp earth with a rake, she sat down on a mound and poured sachets and bundles of flower seeds onto her knees and sorted them into varieties.
“Olga Petrovna, what is it,” I remark, “do you not sow poppies in flowerbeds?”
- Nu, what from poppies color! she answered confidently. - It's a vegetable. It is sown in the beds along with onions and cucumbers.
- What do you! I laughed. - In some old song it is sung:
And her forehead, like marble, is white. And the cheeks are burning, as if the color of poppies.
“It only blooms for two days,” Olga Petrovna persisted. - For a flower bed, this does not fit in any way, puffed and immediately burned out. And then all summer this mallet sticks out and only spoils the view.
But all the same, I secretly poured a pinch of poppy into the very middle of the flower bed. She turned green after a few days.
- Have you planted poppies? - Aunt Olya approached me. - Oh, you are such a mischievous! So be it, leave the top three, you felt sorry. And shed the rest.
Unexpectedly, I left on business and returned only two weeks later. After a hot, tiring road, it was nice to enter Aunt Olya's quiet old house. The freshly washed floor was cool. A jasmine bush growing under the window cast a lacy shadow on the desk.
- Pour kvass? she suggested, looking sympathetically at me, sweaty and tired. - Alyoshka was very fond of kvass. It used to be that he himself bottled and sealed
When I rented this room, Olga Petrovna, raising her eyes to the portrait of a young man in a flight uniform that hangs over the desk, asked:
- Not prevent?
- What do you!
- This is my son Alex. And the room was his. Well, you settle down, live on health.
Handing me a heavy copper mug with kvass, Aunt Olya said:
- And your poppies have risen, the buds have already been thrown away. I went to look at the flowers. The flower bed was unrecognizable. Along the very edge was spread a rug, which, with its thick cover with flowers scattered over it, very much resembled a real carpet. Then the flower bed was girded with a ribbon of matthiols - modest night flowers that attract not by brightness, but by a gently bitter aroma, similar to the smell of vanilla. Curtains of yellow-violet pansies were full of flowers, purple-velvet hats of Parisian beauties swayed on thin legs. There were many other familiar and unfamiliar colors. And in the center of the flower bed, above all this flower diversity, my poppies rose, throwing three tight, heavy buds towards the sun.
They broke up the next day.
Aunt Olya went out to water the flower bed, but immediately returned, rattling an empty watering can.
- Well, go look, bloomed.
From a distance, the poppies looked like lit torches with live, merrily blazing flames in the wind. A light wind swayed a little, the sun pierced the translucent scarlet petals with light, which made the poppies either flare up with a quivering bright fire, or fill with a thick crimson. It seemed that if you just touched it, they would immediately scorch you!
Poppies blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness, and next to them all these Parisian beauties, snapdragons and other flower aristocracy faded, dimmed.
Poppies burned wildly for two days. And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out. And immediately on a lush flower bed without them it became empty.
I picked up from the ground still quite fresh, in drops of dew, a petal and straightened it in my palm.
“That's all,” I said loudly, with a feeling of admiration that had not yet cooled down.
- Yes, it burned down ... - Aunt Olya sighed, as if in a living being. - And somehow I used to pay no attention to this poppy. His life is short. But without looking back, lived to the fullest. And it happens to people...
Aunt Olya, somehow hunched over, suddenly hurried into the house.
I have already been told about her son. Aleksei died diving on his tiny "hawk" onto the back of a heavy fascist bomber...
I now live on the other side of the city and occasionally visit Aunt Olya. I recently visited her again. We sat at the summer table, drank tea, shared the news. And next to it, a large carpet of poppies was blazing in a flower bed. Some crumbled, dropping petals to the ground like sparks, others only opened their fiery tongues. And from below, from the damp, full of vitality of the earth, more and more tightly rolled buds rose up to keep the living fire from going out.

8th grade 28.01.2013 Teacher: GROZA ANNA

Evgeny Nosov "Living Flame"

Generalization

Evgeniy Ivanovich Nosov 1925-2002

In the lesson we will:

  • Read correctly and expressively, answer questions
  • Extract information from the text you read
  • Compose a lexical chain of words
  • Analyze the association of links in the lexical chain
  • Evaluate the actions of the characters.
  • Perform selective reading when evaluating events

  • 1. A conversation about seeds gives rise to a secret plan.
  • 2. It's done!
  • 3. Remembrance of the son.
  • 4. And the poppies rose.
  • 5. Living flame.
  • 6. Life without looking back

Evgeny Nosov "Living Flame"

The flower bed was unrecognizable. Along the very edge was spread a rug, which, with its thick cover with flowers scattered over it, very much resembled a real carpet. Then the flower bed was girded with a ribbon of matthiols - modest night flowers that attract not by brightness, but by a gently bitter aroma, similar to the smell of vanilla.

Echo of war in the work of E. Nosov

Curtains of yellow-violet pansies were full of flowers, purple-velvet hats of Parisian beauties swayed on thin legs. There were many other familiar and unfamiliar colors. And in the center of the flowerbed, above all this flower diversity, poppies rose, throwing out three tight, heavy buds towards the sun.

Evgeny Nosov "Living Flame"

From a distance, the poppies looked like lit torches with live flames blazing merrily in the wind.

Evgeny Nosov "Living Flame"

A light wind swayed a little, the sun pierced the translucent scarlet petals with light, which made the poppies either flare up with a quivering bright fire, or fill with a thick crimson. It seemed that if you just touched it, they would immediately scorch you!

Poppies burned wildly for two days. And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out. And immediately on a lush flower bed without them it became empty.

I picked up from the ground still quite fresh, in drops of dew, a petal and straightened it in my palm.

“That's all,” I said loudly, with a feeling of admiration that had not yet cooled down.

Evgeny Nosov "Living Flame"

We learn about Alexei, the son of Aunt Olya, who died in the war, from the last lines of the story. These lines are key in the work of E. Nosov.

Red poppy - a symbol of Remembrance .

  • In the story, MAC becomes the original image.
  • MAC - central image

There are many legends about the origin of the poppy. In Christian mythology, the origin of the poppy is associated with blood.

innocently killed

person. First

like a poppy has grown

from the blood of Christ crucified on the cross, and since

since it grows there

where a lot has spilled

human blood.

And in England there is a national holiday - Poppy Day - a tribute to the memory of fallen soldiers.

November 11 is the Day of Remembrance for all those who fell on the battlefields, a date that marks the anniversary of the end of the 1st World War. The symbol of Remembrance Day in many countries is the red poppy.

  • ALEXEI
  • Aunt Olya
  • YOUTH

Lexical chain of words

Mythological correspondence

thrown away towards the sun three tight buds”

Associations

Sleep, sweet solace, innocently shed blood

Plant, red - beautiful, bright petals

Solar symbolism

They looked like lit torches”, “scarlet petals”, “opened their fiery tongues”, “blazed like sparks”, “filled with a thick crimson”

flared up quivering bright fire"

blazed - crumbled - went out", "And it happens to people"

fresh, dew-dropped petal”

beauty, light, kindness

Fire as an intermediary between man and deity, one of the main elements of the world

Fire, youth, passion, lust for life brightness of impressions

sensibility, emotionality

Fire as a living being, the connection of fire with the heart, soul of the deceased

living flame

Transience of human life, interrupted life, tragedy, pain, sorrow

youth, beauty, death

And from below ... more and more tightly rolled buds rose up to keep the living fire from going out”

Living fire - new, holy, heavenly

Pure, uninterrupted heavenly, Eternal flame, memory, gratitude, tears, cleansing, silence

Hope

The heroic lives on

among us, in our minds.

Memory nourishes the roots of the moral spirit

people",

"inspirational

feats."

Memory.

She is always with us.

P arerea - Opinion

R ationament - The argument

E xemplu - Example

S umarul - Conclusion

P - This text teaches us to live for someone to devote his life to people ..

  • P- Poppies are beautiful scarlet flowers.
  • R- They decorate our life.
  • E- An example of this is a flower bed on which poppies bloomed, without them it would not be so bright.
  • S- For two days the poppies burned violently, and then crumbled and went out.
  • P - This text teaches us to live for the sake of someone, to devote life to people.
  • R- This is the only way to leave a good memory of yourself.
  • E- An example of this is the life of Alexei.
  • S- Sometimes a short life can be lived to the fullest.

  • Homework:

Essay on the topic of

« Short life

but without looking back

in full force

lived."

Volume: 0.5-1 pages

  • Eskov M.N. Memories of Evgeny Nosov. M.-2005
  • Krupina N.L. "From Heart to Heart": Evgeny Nosov's story "Living Flame" LSh -2005, No. 4
  • Rossinskaya V.S. "... Do not let the living fire die": E.I. Nosov's story "The Living Flame" in the 7th grade. LS - 2005, No. 3.
  • Rossinskaya V.S. Dolls and people: E.I. Nosov's story "Doll". LS - 1998, No. 1.
  • site materials www. openclass. en »

www. ped-sovet. en »

1) Features of the genre of the work. The work of E.I. Nosov "Living Flame" refers to the genre of the story. This is an epic genre of a small volume, which tells about one episode, an event from the life of a hero.

2) Themes and problems of the story.
Evgeny Ivanovich Nosov belongs to the generation of those Russian writers of the 20th century who survived the war, endured all the hardships of wartime, therefore the theme of a feat, a life lived in an instant is especially relevant for him. The writer's story "Living Flame" tells about the too rapid flowering of poppies and the associations that arose in the main character of the work, Aunt Olya, who observes the bright, but short life of poppies.

How did you understand the words of Aunt Olya: “He has a short life. But without looking back, lived to the fullest. Does that happen to people too?" What did Aunt Olya remember when she said these words? (about his son Alexei, who died diving in his tiny "hawk" onto the back of a heavy Nazi bomber)

Why, from now on, did Aunt Olya give preference to poppies and plant them in a flower bed? (Poppies reminded Aunt Olya of her son.)

3) The meaning of the title of the story. E.I. Nosov called his story "The Living Flame". It was through the title of the work that the writer conveyed his attitude to the depicted and drew the reader's attention to the key episode of the story. Describing the flowering of poppies, the author uses various artistic means: color epithets (“lit torches with live, merrily blazing flames in the wind”, “translucent scarlet petals”), unusual metaphors (“they flashed with a quivering bright fire, then they got drunk with a thick crimson” , “one has only to touch - they will immediately scorch”), capacious comparisons (“Poppies blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness, and next to them all these Parisian beauties, snapdragons and other flower aristocracy faded, faded”), The life of a flower is fleeting: “Two poppies blazed wildly during the day. And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out. Aunt Olya associates such a short but full of strength poppy's life with the fate of her own son Alexei, who "died diving on his tiny" hawk "on the back of a heavy fascist bomber." The title of the story is based on an unusual metaphor that characterizes not only the color of the poppy, red like fire, but also the very fast life of a flower, like a flame. The title contains the main meaning of the story of E.I. Nosov, his philosophical depth. The writer, as it were, invites the reader to think about the moral essence of life, to live brightly, not to be afraid of difficulties, to overcome circumstances. The author makes one strive not for a faceless existence, but for a life full of deep meaning.

How did you understand the meaning of the title of E.I. Nosov "Living Flame" (Poppies, like a flame, flared up quickly and burned out just as quickly.)

4) Artistic features of the story.

What did the poppies look like? (“on lit torches with live, merrily flames blazing in the wind”)

What artistic and expressive means does the author use in describing poppies? (epithets, metaphors: “translucent scarlet petals”, “flashed with a tremulously bright fire”, “filled with a thick crimson”, “blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness”, etc.)

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Attention! The slide preview is for informational purposes only and may not represent the full extent of the presentation. If you are interested in this work, please download the full version.

Technology: information and communication technologies, case technology, critical thinking development technology, personality-oriented technology, free education technology.

Lesson Objectives: show the writer's ability to express his attitude to true values ​​through one episode from his life; to promote the development of analytical and expressive reading, the construction of logical statements, to note the artistic originality of the story, to promote moral and patriotic education; to develop the speech of students, the skills of expressive reading and analysis of a work of art, to instill in schoolchildren a respectful attitude and a sense of grateful memory for those who died during the Great Patriotic War.

Equipment: 1) Computer. 2) Presentation, film. 3) Texts of E. Nosov's story "Living Flame".

During the classes.

1) Work on the concept of "MEMORY".

What is memory? Try to formulate the lexical meaning of this word.

Listen to the definition from the dictionary.

MEMORY, -and, well. 1. The ability to preserve and reproduce in the mind previous impressions, experience, as well as the very stock of impressions and experience stored in the mind. (S. I. Ozhegov, N. Yu. Shvedova. Explanatory dictionary of the Russian language.)

MEMORY (to think, to think). The ability to remember, not to forget the past; the property of the soul to keep, remember the consciousness of the past. (Explanatory Dictionary of the Living Great Russian Language by Vladimir Dal.)

MEMORY, memory, pl. no, female 1. The ability to retain and reproduce in the mind the previous impressions. (D.N. Ushakov. Explanatory Dictionary.)

Do you think that all events remain in the memory of people? What is better remembered?

The theme of memory is the main theme of our lesson.

Presentation. Slide 1. (Against the background of the slide, the song “For that guy” sounds (1 verse and chorus), the sound is interrupted by a click. The second click changes the slide.)

Today in the lesson we will recall the most tragic period in the history of our country - the Great Patriotic War of 1941-1945, we will talk about the story of Evgeny Ivanovich Nosov "The Living Flame", we will follow how the writer raises the topic of memory and solves it on the pages of his work.

Read the epigraph to the lesson (on slide 1). How do you understand these words?

"I only want you, men and women, former soldiers and soldiers' wives, participants and eyewitnesses, while still alive, ... to pass on to your children and grandchildren the sacred memory of the fallen from hand to hand, from heart to heart." E. Nosov "Chopin, sonata number two"

Memory again and again returns the veterans of the Great Patriotic War to the trenches and dugouts, to the high-rise occupied by a handful of soldiers or to the crossing under aimed fire. Memory. She is always with us. And no matter what the front-line soldiers write about many years later, the theme of the war remains the main one in any work, because terrible pictures cannot be erased from memory.

Nosov wrote little about the war, but he wrote in such a way that his stories entered literature forever. The war, which ended so long ago, tormented Nosov with the pain of memory, pain for those who remained in their native and foreign land, for those who were orphaned. Through the lips of his hero, he said about what tormented him so strongly and relentlessly: “It's ... in our memory. In our understanding of what price was paid for the victory over the most fierce of the enemies that ever attacked Russian soil.

2) Acquaintance with the life and work of the writer (a student's report about E. I. Nosov).

Presentation. Slide 2.

Nosov Evgeny Ivanovich was born on January 15, 1925 in the village of Tolmachevo near Kursk in the family of a hereditary craftsman, blacksmith. A half-starved childhood taught him to earn a living by fishing, hunting, picking herbs to sell and earn a living.

At the age of sixteen, he survived the Nazi occupation. In the summer of 1943, after graduating from the eighth grade, he went to the front, entered the artillery troops, and became a gunner. Participated in the operation "Bagration", in the battles on the Rogachev bridgehead across the Dnieper. Fought in Poland. In the battles near Koenigsberg on February 8, 1945 he was seriously wounded and on May 9, 1945 he met in a hospital in Serpukhov, about which he later wrote the story “Red Wine of Victory”.

After the war, Nosov continued his studies, graduated from high school. Since childhood, he loved to draw and obviously had talent, he left for Central Asia to work as an artist, designer, and literary collaborator. Starts writing prose. In 1958, his first book of short stories and novels, On the Fishing Path, was published.

In 1961 he returned to Kursk and became a professional writer. Studying at the Higher Literary Courses at the Literary Institute. M. Gorky, publishes his works “Thirty grains”, “The house behind the triumphal arch”, “Where the sun wakes up”.

E. I. Nosov was awarded the Orders of Lenin and the Patriotic War, medals. In 1975, the writer was awarded the State Prize of the RSFSR, in 1996 - the International Prize named after M. A. Sholokhov in the field of literature and art.

Presentation. Slide 3. (During the story, two photos automatically change after two seconds.)

3) Talk about the story.

1. What do we know about the narrator? Who is he related to Aunt Olya?

(He is a writer, rents a room from Olga Petrovna)

2. Presentation. slide 4. Tell about Olga Petrovna using the illustration for the story.

(Aunt Olya is lonely, hidden sadness overwhelms her heart. She does not complain about her fate, she no longer cries. But grief is sometimes expressed in Olga Petrovna's words, facial expressions, gestures, posture).

Name the details that testify to the loneliness of a woman, about the hidden sadness that overwhelmed her heart.

(A quiet old house, looking around me sympathetically, somehow hunched over)

3. Do you feel the presence of Alexei? Prove with the words of the text.

Presentation. Slide 5. Illustration work - description of the room.

4. Why do you think Aunt Olya breeds flowers?

(To relieve heartache.)

5. Why didn't aunt Olya like poppies?

(A poppy is not suitable for a flower bed: it puffed and immediately burned out.)

6. Why did the narrator sow poppies?

7. Expressively read the description of the flower bed.

Why did the writer need a detailed description of the flower bed?

Presentation. slide 6. Why did the artist depict only poppies?

Is it possible to say that mattiolas, pansies, curtains excited the heart of the hero as much as poppies?

(Having focused on the detailed description of the flower bed, Nosov thereby outlines two opposite, contrasting images: the image of a poppy and all other flowers. In the story “flower aristocracy” “seems like a real carpet” if there are poppies nearby. But without them “immediately in a lush flower bed became empty.)

(Epithets, comparisons, metaphors)

8. Re-read the episode where the hero-narrator and Aunt Olya are examining a faded poppy.

How is the short-lived beauty of poppies shown?

Name the verbs that convey the action of poppies.

Consider the chain of verbs: flamed - crumbled - went out.

An artistic technique based on strengthening or, conversely, weakening a feature is called gradation.

9. Why did Aunt Olya suddenly “somehow hunch over”?

What did we learn about Aunt Olya's son? How did Alexei die?

About the fate of Alexei Nosov said in one sentence. Is that enough for us, the readers, to introduce him? How do you imagine Alexey?

(Judging by the love and warmth with which his mother remembers him, we can say that Alexei was the pride of Aunt Olya even before the war.)

10. Has the attitude of the characters towards poppies changed? What does this tell us?

(Poppy is compared to human life. Human life is just as short, but beautiful. Fire in the story is associated with the soul of a person who gave his life for the sake of the lives of others.)

Read the words of Olga Petrovna about the fate of poppy and the fate of her son.

11. Can poppies be called full-fledged "heroes" of the story? What does the image of a “violently flaming” poppy symbolize, either flashing with a “tremulously bright fire”, or pouring into a “thick crimson”?

(This is a symbol of the sublime, enthusiastic, heroic in E. Nosov. It is no coincidence that the author compares poppies with “lit torches with live, merrily blazing flames in the wind”, and their crumbling petals with “sparks”. Considering “still quite fresh, in drops of dew, a petal," the mother recalls her son, who flared up with the power of the human spirit and burned out "without looking back.")

12. Presentation. Slide 7. Read the description of the poppies at the end of the story. How do you understand the end of the story?

(Admiring the “big fire of poppies”, the author observes how “from below, from the damp, full of vitality of the earth, more and more tightly rolled buds rose to keep the living fire from going out.” It resembles an eternal flame. A sign of eternal memory and silence .)

13. Why is the story so titled?

(The heroic continues to live among us, in our minds. Memory nourishes the roots of the “moral spirit of the people”, “inspiring deeds”. Memory. It is always with us.)

14) Did E. Nosov manage to show the cruelty of the war on the pages of a small work?

4) The story of the pilots who died during the war.

War is the greatest tragedy. When you pronounce this word, destroyed cities, flashes of rockets and the glow of conflagrations arise in your thoughts, an infinitely heavy roar of bombings arises in your ears ...

In the story of E. I. Nosov there are no descriptions of military events, and the author mentions the war in passing. Just a few sentences convey the full horror of war. Aunt Olya's son died heroically, he had a short life, but he lived it to the fullest. And how many young people did not return from the war! In the memory of relatives and their comrades-in-arms, they remained forever young. Let's recall some of them.

Presentation. Slide 8 (Before each student's story about the pilot, photos are clicked out.)

Shamshurin Vasily Grigorievich

Junior Lieutenant Shamshurin made 22 sorties, destroying 4 aircraft, 14 tanks and other military equipment of the enemy. On November 18, 1942, while attacking enemy troop concentrations in the Dzaurikau area, he directed his Il-2, which was hit by anti-aircraft fire, into the thick of enemy military equipment. VG Shamshurin was awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union posthumously.

Matveev Vladimir I.

Captain Matveev, when repulsing an enemy raid on Leningrad on July 12, 1941, having used up all the ammunition, used a ram: he cut off the tail of an enemy aircraft with the end of the plane of his car, and he himself made a safe landing. On January 1, 1942, he died in an air battle in the Leningrad Region. V.I.Matveev was awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

Kaikov Pavel Alexandrovich.

Lieutenant Kaikov made 177 sorties. Participated in 5 air battles. On November 29, 1941, he died in an air battle, ramming an enemy aircraft in the Loukhi area during a frontal attack. P.A. Kaikov was awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union.

Grechishkin Vasily Nikolaevich

Major Grechishkin made 152 sorties to bombard important targets and destroy enemy manpower and equipment. On September 30, 1943, near Leningrad, Grechishkin's plane was hit by enemy anti-aircraft fire. The pilot directed the burning aircraft to the position of the artillery battery. VN Grechishkin was awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union posthumously.

5) The development of students' speech (from the family archive: a story about a war veteran).

Not a single family in our country was spared by the war. It touched your families too. Let's listen to short stories about your relatives.

Lyubkevich Anton.

My great-grandfather Mikhail Vasilyevich Sorokin was born in 1913 and died in 1991. When my great-grandfather was young and strong, he could lift a horse. In 1938 he went to serve in the army. He got to the Chinese border and participated in the military campaign near Khalkhin Gol against the Japanese army. Before he could return home, the Russian-Finnish war began. Grandfather also participated in it. And then the Great Patriotic War began, and great-grandfather stood up to defend his homeland. During the battle near Leningrad, his leg was torn off. Entered the hospital. And in 1944 he returned home from the front. My great-grandfather was awarded orders and medals.

Karetnikov Ivan.

My great-grandfather fought near the city of Rzhev. During the fighting, the Germans surrounded great-grandfather and his comrades in a swamp. It was very hard for them: there was no food, no shells. The soldiers did everything possible and impossible to survive and not let the Germans through. But the enemy was stronger at this stage of the war. My great-grandfather was captured. They poured water over him, beat him with a whip, set dogs on him. The Soviet army, having defeated the Nazi troops, freed the prisoners. Among them was my great-grandfather. He returned home to his family.

I was named Ivan after my great-grandfather.

Uvarova Irina.

My great-grandfather's name was Ivan Dmitrievich Uvarov. Went to war in 1941. At that time he lived in the Smolensk region. Great-grandfather was very strong, so he began to fight as a grenade launcher and machine gunner. After being severely wounded in the leg, he was admitted to the hospital. There was a German in the ward where my great-grandfather lay. When the grandfather found out who was lying next to him, he hit the German in the chest with his fist. The blow was fatal. For this great-grandfather wanted to judge, but did not.

Podmyatnikova Ekaterina.

My great-grandfather's name was Alexander Pavlovich. He was drafted into the war when he was 22 years old. In 1942, he was wounded in the arm, then spent a whole year in the hospital. In May 1943, he fought in a chemical defense battalion as a medical instructor. In 1945, great-grandfather became a shooter. In 1946 he was demobilized. He has awards, but they, unfortunately, have not been preserved.

6) Conclusions on the story.

We learn about Alexei, the son of Aunt Olya, who died in the war, from the last lines of the story. These lines are key in Nosov's work. The memory of those who died in the Great Patriotic War lives in the hearts of relatives and complete strangers. Famous and nameless fighters who did not come from the front return to our lives with a breath of a light breeze, an azure quiet morning, a jasmine bush that has grown under the window or a brightly flashing flower in a flower bed.

Presentation. Slide 9 (During the story, five photos are automatically changed. The photos change after fifteen seconds.)

1 photo in the presentation. The red poppy is a symbol of Memory. There are many legends about the origin of the poppy. In Christian mythology, the origin of the poppy is associated with the blood of an innocently killed person. For the first time, as if the poppy grew out of the blood of Christ crucified on the cross, and since then it has been growing where a lot of human blood was shed.

2 photos in the presentation. In 1915, during the First World War, Canadian military doctor John McCrae wrote the famous poem "In the Flanders Fields", which began with these lines:

Everywhere poppies burn with candles of sadness
On the war-scorched fields of Flanders,
Between the dark crosses that stand in rows,
In those places where our ashes were recently buried. (translated by A. Yaro)

3 photos in the presentation. It is believed that poppy seeds love when the earth is "disturbed": they can lie in the soil for years and will begin to germinate only after the soil has been dug up. In the First World War, bloody battles took place in Flanders, after which the few survivors had to bury their dead comrades right on the battlefield. They say that such a number of poppies have never been seen in those places, either before or after that terrible time.

4 photos in the presentation. In England, there is a national holiday - Poppy Day - a tribute to the memory of fallen soldiers. , which is celebrated on November 11 or the nearest Sunday to this date. This date marks the anniversary of the end of World War I. 2 weeks before Poppy Day, red artificial poppies are being sold everywhere, the funds from which go entirely to help war veterans. Almost everyone buys a bright and symbolic flower to immediately pin it to their clothes as a token of gratitude and blessed memory.

5 photos in the presentation. The symbol of Remembrance Day in many countries is the red poppy.

The student reads by heart a poem by Ekaterina Akimova "Poppies".

The war has passed, many years have passed,
Erasing those years from my memory.
But do not forget, Russia, these troubles,
Poppy seedlings will remind you of them.

Poppies redden with a spark on the ground,
They burn in the steppe expanses, in the field
Like drops of blood, yes, hot blood.

They bloom and do not let you forget
About those battles for life and freedom
About those who could not spare themselves,
Heat all the water with your blood.

Poppies redden with a spark on the ground,
And the flame that burns without quenching,
He burns the heart of the whole country,
Reminding her of the bitter years.

And our heart keeps that memory
And tears of sorrow in the eyes of the weary,
And the memory of the past burns in the soul of the earth,
Like that fire in the grass of scarlet poppies.

Poppies redden with a spark on the ground,
Like drops of blood, yes hot blood.
And burn the heart of the whole country,
With his fire to our terrible pain.

Presentation. Slide 10. The film "Living Flame", created in the programWindowsmovieMaker, launched by clicking on the photo. After the end of the movie, to change the slide, click in the lower right corner or click on the triangle in the left corner, then click "next" in the window.

(Y.Antonov's song "Poppies", photographs of the period of the Great Patriotic War, monuments to the defenders of the Motherland and monuments of the Volokolamsk region)

7) The final word of the teacher. Presentation. Slide 11.

65 years have passed since the end of the Great Patriotic War, but its echo still does not subside in people's souls. We have no right to forget the horrors of war so that they do not happen again. We have no right to forget those soldiers who died so that we can live now. We must remember everything in order to learn lessons from the past for the present and the future. We must remember everything in order to live.

The road rushes mile after mile,
Feet groan, wheels and tracks.
Crosses along the road and under each cross
Red poppies are blooming.

And the clouds float across the sky
Impenetrable and gray wall.
And the clouds look down on the crosses
Pouring with an unearthly tear.

I look at the tired guys
And in my heart I remember God
And I dream that every soldier
I did not become a red poppy by the road ...

Andrey Vladimirov (Chernikov)

And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out. And immediately on a lush flower bed without them it became empty. I picked up from the ground still quite fresh, in drops of dew, a petal and straightened it in my palm. “That's all,” I said loudly, with a feeling of admiration that had not yet cooled down. - Yes, it burned down ... - Aunt Olya sighed, as if in a living being. - And somehow I used to pay no attention to this poppy. His life is short. But without looking back, lived to the fullest. It happens to people too... Aunt Olya, somehow hunched over, suddenly hurried into the house. I have already been told about her son. Aleksei died diving on his tiny "hawk" onto the back of a heavy fascist bomber... I now live on the other side of the city and occasionally visit Aunt Olya. I recently visited her again. We sat at the summer table, drank tea, shared the news. And next to it, a large carpet of poppies was blazing in a flower bed. Some crumbled, dropping petals to the ground like sparks, others only opened their fiery tongues. And from below, from the damp, full of vitality of the earth, more and more tightly rolled buds rose up to keep the living fire from going out.

“There was a doll lying in a dirty roadside ditch. Poppy color became for the mother of the dead son an eternal fire of memory of his bright, but short life, a living fire. A large and still pretty face, with a slight, barely marked smile on swollen, childish lips. Describing the flowering of poppies, the author uses various artistic means: color epithets “lit torches with live flames blazing merrily in the wind”, “translucent scarlet petals”. unusual metaphors “sometimes flashed with a quivering bright fire, then they got drunk with a thick crimson”, “one has only to touch it - they will immediately scorch”. capacious comparisons "Poppies blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness, and next to them all these Parisian beauties, snapdragons and other flower aristocracy faded, dimmed." The life of a flower is fleeting: “For two days, the poppies burned wildly. The past and the present are combined in a small narrative about seemingly ordinary garden flowers - poppies, reminiscent of their flowering, as E. emphasizes. Aunt Olya took out a birch bark box from the closet. He has a short life. So begins Nosov's Living Flame. And suddenly he sighed loudly.

And shed the rest. The title of the story is based on an unusual metaphor that characterizes not only the color of the poppy, red like fire, but also the very fast life of a flower, like a flame. There were many other familiar and unfamiliar colors. Looking at the overgrown river, barely oozing with subdued water, Akimych sadly waved it off: - And don't even unwind your fishing rods! They bring babies in strollers - they won’t raise an eyebrow.

The writer, who is also a narrator, rents a room from an elderly, already lonely woman, Aunt Olya. After returning, he did not recognize the garden. Such as many defenders of the fatherland had during the war years. Well, at night, at the pool, it’s not at all comfortable when the washed-out shore suddenly collapses, heavily, or slashes the water with a flat tail, like a board, a seasoned catfish that has risen from a pit. “Living Flame” is a story about how short life is sometimes. And the poppy, as their symbol, will remind people of those whose “living flame” has gone out, having just flared up in full force. She lives in a quiet old house that keeps the memory of her son.

For two days they either flared up in the flowerbed with a "tremulously bright fire", then suddenly "filled with a thick crimson."

A light wind swayed a little, the sun pierced the translucent scarlet petals with light, which made the poppies either flare up with a quivering bright fire, or fill with a thick crimson. But all the same, I secretly poured a pinch of poppy into the very middle of the flower bed. And immediately on a lush flower bed without them it became empty. Well, you settle down, live on health. A living flame of flowers symbolizes human memory in it. To replace the crumbling flowers, more and more new buds rose, which soon lit their petals, not allowing this eternal fire to go out. She remembered the son who died in the war, the pain of which never left her.

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Evgeny Ivanovich Nosov belongs to the generation of those Russian writers of the twentieth century who survived the war, endured all the hardships of wartime, therefore the theme of a feat, a life lived instantly is especially relevant for him. The writer's story "Living Flame" tells about the too rapid flowering of poppies and the associations that arose in the main character of the work, Aunt Olya, who observes the bright, but short life of these flowers.

E.I. Nosov called his story "The Living Flame". It was through the title of the work that the writer conveyed his attitude to the depicted and drew the reader's attention to the key episode of the story.

Describing the flowering of poppies, the author uses various artistic means: color epithets (“lit torches with live, merrily blazing flames in the wind”, “translucent scarlet petals”), unusual metaphors (“they flashed with a tremulously bright fire, then they filled with a thick crimson” , “one has only to touch - they will immediately scorch”), capacious comparisons (“Poppies blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness, and next to them all these Parisian beauties, snapdragons and other flower aristocracy faded, dimmed”). The life of a flower is fleeting: “For two days, the poppies burned wildly. And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out.

Aunt Olya associates such a short but full of strength poppy's life with the fate of her own son Alexei, who "died diving on his tiny" hawk "on the back of a heavy fascist bomber."

The title of the story is based on an unusual metaphor that characterizes not only the color of the poppy, red like fire, but also the very fast life of a flower, like a flame. The writer, as it were, invites the reader to think about the moral essence of life, to live brightly, not to be afraid of difficulties, to overcome circumstances. The author makes one strive not for a faceless existence, but for a life full of deep meaning.

Thus, the title contains the main meaning of E.I. Nosov, his philosophical depth.

(Option 2)

There is a flower bed next to Aunt Olya's house. There are many flowers here: “mattiol - modest night flowers, attracting not with brightness, but with a gently bitter aroma, similar to the smell of vanilla”, “yellow-violet pansies”, “many other familiar and unfamiliar flowers”. And in the middle of the flowerbed, the hero-narrator sowed poppies without the permission of the hostess. Aunt Olya didn’t want to sow them: “a vegetable”, “they sow in the beds along with onions and cucumbers”, “it only blooms for two days”, “puffed and immediately burned down”, then “this very mallet sticks out and only spoils the view”. The author reminded the hostess of an old song: “And her forehead, like marble, is white. // And the cheeks are burning, as if the color of poppies. It is not for nothing that the song was composed in the old days, there is something bewitching in this “poppy color”. In order not to offend the guest, Aunt Olya nevertheless left three flowers. Poppies gave buds and blossomed: “From a distance, poppies looked like lit torches with live flames blazing merrily in the wind. A light wind swayed a little, the sun pierced the translucent scarlet petals with light, which made the poppies either flare up with a quivering bright fire, or fill with a thick crimson. It seemed that if you just touched it, they would immediately scorch it! Indeed, for only two days, "poppies burned wildly", only without them, "on a lush flower bed ... it became empty."

“That's all,” I said loudly, with a feeling of admiration that had not yet cooled down.

“Yes, it burned down ...” Aunt Olya sighed, as if in a living being. - And somehow I used to pay no attention to this poppy. He has a short life. But without looking back, lived to the fullest. And it happens to people...

It turns out that Aunt Olya's son died at the front, diving on a tiny plane onto the back of a heavy fascist bomber...

Aunt Olya changed her mind about poppies, and now a large carpet of poppies was blazing in the flower bed. Some crumbled, dropping petals to the ground, like sparks, others only opened their fiery tongues. And from below, from the damp, full of vitality of the earth, more and more tightly rolled buds rose up to keep the living fire from going out. Poppy color became for the mother of the dead son an eternal fire of memory of his bright, but short life, a living fire.

1) Features of the genre of the work. The work of E.I. Nosov "Living Flame" refers to the genre of the story. This is an epic genre of a small volume, which tells about one episode, an event from the life of a hero.

2) Themes and problems of the story.
Evgeny Ivanovich Nosov belongs to the generation of those Russian writers of the 20th century who survived the war, endured all the hardships of wartime, therefore the theme of a feat, a life lived in an instant is especially relevant for him. The writer's story "Living Flame" tells about the too rapid flowering of poppies and the associations that arose in the main character of the work, Aunt Olya, who observes the bright, but short life of poppies.

How did you understand the words of Aunt Olya: “He has a short life. But without looking back, lived to the fullest. Does that happen to people too?" What did Aunt Olya remember when she said these words? (about his son Alexei, who died diving in his tiny "hawk" onto the back of a heavy Nazi bomber)

Why, from now on, did Aunt Olya give preference to poppies and plant them in a flower bed? (Poppies reminded Aunt Olya of her son.)

3) The meaning of the title of the story. E.I. Nosov called his story "The Living Flame". It was through the title of the work that the writer conveyed his attitude to the depicted and drew the reader's attention to the key episode of the story. Describing the flowering of poppies, the author uses various artistic means: color epithets (“lit torches with live, merrily blazing flames in the wind”, “translucent scarlet petals”), unusual metaphors (“they flashed with a quivering bright fire, then they got drunk with a thick crimson” , “one has only to touch - they will immediately scorch”), capacious comparisons (“Poppies blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness, and next to them all these Parisian beauties, snapdragons and other flower aristocracy faded, faded”), The life of a flower is fleeting: “Two poppies blazed wildly during the day. And at the end of the second day, they suddenly crumbled and went out. Aunt Olya associates such a short but full of strength poppy's life with the fate of her own son Alexei, who "died diving on his tiny" hawk "on the back of a heavy fascist bomber." The title of the story is based on an unusual metaphor that characterizes not only the color of the poppy, red like fire, but also the very fast life of a flower, like a flame. The title contains the main meaning of the story of E.I. Nosov, his philosophical depth. The writer, as it were, invites the reader to think about the moral essence of life, to live brightly, not to be afraid of difficulties, to overcome circumstances. The author makes one strive not for a faceless existence, but for a life full of deep meaning.

How did you understand the meaning of the title of E.I. Nosov "Living Flame" (Poppies, like a flame, flared up quickly and burned out just as quickly.)

4) Artistic features of the story.

What did the poppies look like? (“on lit torches with live, merrily flames blazing in the wind”)

What artistic and expressive means does the author use in describing poppies? (epithets, metaphors: “translucent scarlet petals”, “flashed with a tremulously bright fire”, “filled with a thick crimson”, “blinded with their mischievous, burning brightness”, etc.)